


blue

by lucylikestowrite



Category: Lovely Little Losers, Nothing Much to Do
Genre: M/M, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-14
Updated: 2015-06-16
Packaged: 2018-04-04 10:00:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4133346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lucylikestowrite/pseuds/lucylikestowrite
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>like his eyes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Blue has always been Pedro Donaldson's favourite colour.

When he was little, he chose the blue blocks. When he was a bit less little, he chose the blue soldiers, the blue costumes. When he got his own room, he painted the walls a bright blue that his mum said gave her a headache, but made him feel ridiculously happy.

His favourite shirt is blue. His favourite pen is blue (although his teachers hate when he writes with it.)

He just has a thing for blue. Blue skies make him happy; blue water makes him calm.

Maybe if you asked other people what emotion blue is, they'd say sadness. For Pedro it is anything but. Blue is safe, and home. Blue is the colour of the first ever toy he was given, a rabbit from his grandmother that still sits on his bed, although hidden slightly out of sight, because, fuck, that's a little embarrassing. 

He'd always thought that it was just any blue. Navy or turquoise or baby blue. That any blue was blue enough and all blues were his favourite and that it didn't matter at all. He'd always been sure that all blues were created equal to be loved by Pedro Donaldson.

Maybe this was true. Maybe there was a time when this was true, but maybe it just stopped one day and he didn't even notice.

Maybe he didn't even notice until Ursula roped him and Balthazar into her new project, and started asking them questions, and she's asking the last time they were insulted, and does Balthazar really think he insults him - shit, maybe he does and he doesn't even notice - and for some reason he's noticing Balthazar's eyes, suddenly properly noticing them, and they are great eyes and he's properly seeing their colour-

And it's like Ursula's read his mind (and maybe she has; she always seems to be able to pick up on the mood in a room perfectly), because the next thing he knows she's asking his favourite colour and it just slips out.

"Blue, like your eyes."

And he laughs, because it's so ridiculously true but also entirely unexpected - he didn't mean to think that or realise that or say that, but he did, and he doesn't know what it means except that that blue, that blue is his favourite. Maybe it doesn't mean anything, or maybe it means everything, but this is the blue. This blue is perfect

It's light and it's bright and it's completely Balthazar, and realising this feels a little bit like figuring out something very important, something he hadn't even realised he was trying to figure out, and a little bit like forgetting everything he thought he knew.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> RIDICULOUSLY SHORT. think these are gonna be a few ficlets? idk. probably not gonna get over like 1k 1.5k but yeah


	2. Chapter 2

Pedro hates blue.

He's drowning in it.

It is a reminder of everything he lost when he fucked up, when he went along with that stupid plan without thinking to taking a closer look, blindly trusting the words of a brother he should have known well enough to see through.

He hates it.

Now his walls give him a headache, and his favourite shirt is somewhere bunched up in a ball under his bed gathering dust, next to the pieces of the pen that he kicked under there after he snapped it.

He's so angry but it's only at himself, hatred eating him up and destroying him from the inside out.

There's no space for blue any more.

There's no space for anything else, certainly not for feelings that he might or might not be having. There's no space for them, because they're unbelievably blue, they're bright blue and they hurt and they're useless.

These feelings (which he probably doesn't even really have, he tells himself) are useless after what he did. His anger is fire and this- whatever this is, it's a small drop of water that can't even try to win, shouldn't even try, maybe it doesn't even deserve to try to win. Why should it? Why should it try to win when he's managed to spectacularly fuck up the possibility that anything could ever happen?

Not that anything would have ever happened anyway, even if he hadn't screwed it all up and let the blue be marred like it was, even if he hadn't listened to everything that John had said, even if he hadn't watched silently as Hero was torn to pieces by Claudio at her own birthday party, nothing would have ever had happened because he was too terrified to do anything.

But also, nothing would've happened because nothing is happening, nothing is happening, he's not feeling anything and the blue is certainly not tearing him apart, because he's not feeling anything new. All he's feeling is the same old anger and confusion and hatred that's always been there on the low down, because his dichotomy of right and wrong has blurred, and he's done something really, truly wrong, he's hurt Hero, and he can't get his head around it. He can't get his head around it, and so he doesn't have time to be feeling to be feeling things that he definitely isn't feeling.

He's not feeling anything, because if he were, he would feel like his heart was simultaneously being ripped apart and stood on when he tells her that "men will always be deceivers" and then leaves without speaking to you, but he doesn't, because he isn't feeling anything.

He's not feeling anything, and when he's inexplicably invited over to film the next song, it's easier to tell himself that if he keeps his eyes down. So once the song starts, he does, and he doesn't look up again until the end. When he looks up and smiles, his heart doesn't skip. When he watches back the footage, he doesn't feel anything when he sees how many other times Balthazar looked up, eyes wide. He doesn't feel anything, nobody feels anything, the blue is gone and gone and still there, it's still there, staring at him from his computer screen.

The blue is still there and he hates it and hates it and hates it and it's killing him, because he doesn't deserve this and he doesn't feel anything and he's feeling all too much.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lmao u guys thought this was gonna be all fluff? HA. i call this one 'denial mcangstpants' or 'yay extended metaphors'  
> yeah so this was gonna be a four part fic but now i have ZERO INSPIRATION (wrote this just after peteley) so for the foreseeable future this is all there's gonna be sorry for the ppl who were subscribed


End file.
